


Memories of Hannah

by Hannah_Girl



Series: Rare-pair Bingo 2020 [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depression, F/M, Memories, SPN Rare Pair Bingo 2020, Season/Series 15, Suicidal Thoughts, hannah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24409675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannah_Girl/pseuds/Hannah_Girl
Summary: Castiel reflects on his past after his confrontation with Dean and he remembers Hannah and the immobile.
Relationships: Castiel/Hannah (Supernatural)
Series: Rare-pair Bingo 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1687945
Kudos: 3





	Memories of Hannah

**Author's Note:**

> For the SPN rare-pair bingo 2020. Square filled: Hannah

Castiel had no idea how long he had been driving. He was hurting emotionally after he’d left the bunker, walked out on the Winchesters. The words he had exchanged with Dean still rang in his head even hours later. 

_ Why does that something always have to be you? _ Dean’s words stung. They cut like the sharpest dagger, and Castiel couldn’t shake them. Especially as he realized what a long time coming, this has been.

Dean blamed him for Mary’s death. He blamed him for Rowena’s death. But maybe this was only the latest in a long line of Dean blaming Castiel. But was he wrong? Why couldn’t Castiel just do something, right? Why did all his good intentions always end in pain and sorrow?

That last thought made him think of the distant past. Of the darkest time in his life, when he lost his grace. This was another time when it seemed like everyone had turned their backs on Castiel. The angel’s hated him. After the fall, he couldn’t really blame them. But Dean kicking him out of the bunker hurt. It still hurt now even after he’d learned the reasonings. 

Castiel didn’t know why he pulled his truck off to the shoulder, but on this very clear summer night, he didn’t feel like driving anymore. He felt like reflecting. He got out of the truck and then climbed into the back, sitting on the edge of the truck, feet dangling from the ground.

It dawned on him that there was one being who had been there for him during those darkest memories of his past. Hannah. The angel he’d rescued from Gadreel’s massacre had stuck by his side for an entire year, during the worst time in his life. 

Even after she and his other followers left him briefly after learning of his stolen grace, she immediately returned to his side after learning why. She forgave him. No other angel had ever forgiven him, and he’d done so many terrible things to his own kind that he’d long since given up on ever feeling redeemed. 

Hannah saw him when he was at his weakest. When he was dying and sick, she begged him to take care of herself. 

_ You must take care of yourself, Castiel _ her words, such a faded memory after so many years, had never been more lucid now. Why hadn’t he heard them back then? Why had he brushed them off so quickly? 

Back then, Castiel had been so low in spirit, so depressed that he realized he had welcomed his impending death and that Hannah’s insistence that he take care of himself was the last thing he wanted to hear back then. The honest, gentle words of a friend who didn’t want to see him die.

But he wanted to die. So he couldn’t hear her words. But he certainly heard them now. And the memory of her brought a fresh wave of pain so sharp, he audibly gasped at the weight of it. 

He missed Hannah so much. He needed her right now, her words had fallen on deaf ears then, but how could he have been so blind to not have seen the true gift of friendship and devotion and loyalty that she was offering him? 

“Hannah…” he murmured up to the sky, all those stars up above. She always loved the stars, and the memory of her gazing up at them from the darkness of the car they’d shared together burned in his mind.

“Hannah, I could really use you, right now,” he prayed to the stars. He knew she couldn’t hear him. Like so many of his friends, she was in the empty, eternally sleeping. And she’d died fighting for him. She’d given her life to save him, even if every instinct, and all the other angels, had told her to stay away from him.

She should have stayed away. Maybe if she had, she would still be alive. This was the price of being Castiel’s friend. If only he could see her now, he just wanted to tell her how sorry he was for disregarding her friendship and brushing off her attempts to care about him when no one else at the time, including himself, cared for him. 

“I’m so sorry, and I miss you so much,” he said into the sky. Just as he said that a shooting star blazed across the air, and one lone owl soared overhead. 

Castiel squinted at the owl who seemed to be circling something out in the distant grassy field. He didn’t know why something told him this bird was important, so he observed.

Swiftly, the owl dove down into the grass, then, instead of returning to the nearby tree, it flew right over to Castiel and dropped something in his lap. Then it perched on the side of the truck bed and watched.

Glancing at what was now in his hands, Castiel’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe what the owl had brought him. It was a small toy model car. It was caked with dirt, but as Castiel worked at picking the dirt off, he realized the significance. It was a 1978 Lincoln continental, the same car that he and Hannah had spent so much time in. It was even the same color.

Castiel knew better than to believe it was her, but his heart yearned to believe it, and in his sorrow over recent events, he clung to that belief more than ever right now. It had to be her. Giving him this car as a message that she was with him.

He turned to the owl and patted it gently on the head before it flew off into the sky, it’s silhouette crossing the full moon. Castiel watched it for a while. “Thank you, Hannah,” he said softly into the sky.


End file.
